


Ruthless Desire

by Lilythiell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilythiell/pseuds/Lilythiell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short work done for Floraline's birthday. Happy birthday, hun !<br/>As per requested, a Johnlock story. I hope this meets your expectations !<br/>The prompt she gave me was : "John walks in on Sherlock in handcuffs, and decides to do his own experiment."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruthless Desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Floraline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floraline/gifts).



> Unbetaed, un-Britpicked, so all grammar and language mistakes are mine.  
> Obviously this is not a profitable work, and the characters of Sherlock and John belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, and more generally the BBC.  
> Big thanks to my friend Alaska who helped me come up with a title.  
> Please do leave a comment, I'm anxious to know what you think. It's my first fic so please do bear with me.

**Ruthless Desire**

 

John came home to the same old 221B flat that saw him fall head over heels with his flatmate. Like any other day, Sherlock had not got the milk, teabags and lemon. Nor biscuits. Even after John had asked him several times. How were they supposed to have tea, _without_ tea ? Well, he was used to this. But it still upset him. And it was not the only thing that Sherlock's brilliant mind promptly put aside : he would delete anything pertaining to their common life.

No wonder John was a tad angry when walking the seventeen stairs leading to his hearth. Not having the necessary ingredients to make tea. ..how very un-British. He had had to pop out to Tesco to make it right. Several hours ago.

He had every intention of punishing Sherlock for this unforgivable memory lapse. One way or another, and sooner rather than later. The man never forgot anything, after all. He even had learnt the Solar System (and all that goes with it) all over again to please John, and offered him a star for the first year of their relationship. But he always forgot every little thing that was in any way related to domesticity.

When he crossed the threshold of his flat, John did his best to keep his temper under control, eyes fixed on the floor, trying to maintain a normal pace of breathing. He was entirely focussed on putting the groceries away. Once this was done, he turned around and was faced with an empty living room. As intent as he was, he had not noticed that. Sherlock being silent was something of a frequent occurrence, so John didn't think too much of it. But not only was he silent, he also was not here. Several scientific books on various topics as different from each other as possible laid in disarray, pages were scattered on the floor, even his violin was set outside of its case. Which meant that Sherlock could only have been playing to get his mind to work. He probably was stuck on something. Possibly the quarrel they had several hours ago -upon which John left the flat, lest he lost his temper.

Well, that served him right. More than a year putting up with Sherlock's obvious lack of concern for anything remotely related to the dull aspects of a relationship -from getting the groceries to making plans- was grating on John's nerves. And he had tried to make his point earlier. But Sherlock had said something that made him leave the flat.

And now, seeing the flat empty, he could not even remember what. His flared up anger at Sherlock was rapidly being cooled off by the absence of his partner. And a slight worry started to settle in.

He went to the bedroom just after he took a long look at the empty living room. It was highly unlikely, but Sherlock could have chosen to lie down on the bed for a second, and fallen asleep. When you have eliminated all the possibilities, whatever remains, however improbable, must be truth, after all. As what his madman kept reminding him.

John put his hand on the doorknob, turned it and opened the door. Quietly, for if Sherlock was indeed asleep, John would be damned if he woke him up.

There he saw something extraordinary. Sherlock, standing in front of the window, hands behind his back. Not that extraordinary a thing, but a closer look had John notice Sherlock's hands were handcuffed. And he seemed to have tried getting them off, without success. He looked as if he had been waiting for John to return, possibly to help him out of the cuffs, because when he turned around to face him, his eyes lit up and he exhaled a soft relieved breath.

'Jo-' Sherlock began.

'Oh no. I have you at my mercy here, and you are going to shut up and stay shut up until I say otherwise. Is that understood ?'

Sherlock looked at him wide-eyed, his pupils dilating rapidly. John probably hadn't noticed his Captain self take over, but Sherlock had felt and seen him. John stood a little straighter, his voice bore no disobedience.

'Yes.'

'Yes, what?'

'Yes, it is.'

'Yes it is, what?

'Yes it is understood.'

John pinched the bridge of his nose and took a calming breath.

'Yes it is understood,  _ what _ ?'

'Yes it is understood. Sir', he added after a pause. Sherlock couldn't help himself there, he  had had to tease John. Even if it was plain as day that John was still angry at him, even dimly. 

John was still standing over the threshold of their bedroom, but Sherlock's cheekiness made him come closer to him.

"You will cease this immediately" he ordered.

"Or what?" continued Sherlock, lost in this game.

"Oh no. You don't want to know what  **I** am going to do to you." John replied, all worries and anger aside.  _ This _ was going to be more interesting. And who knows, he might make his point, after all...

Sherlock inhaled sharply, turned on by John's threat. John's eyes grew darker as he came even closer to him, his body inches from Sherlock's, still handcuffed. He'd ask him how  _ this _ happened. Afterwards.

John looked down on Sherlock. For once he was the taller one, and that was a thing he enjoyed very much. Very slowly, not moving an inch of his body, John unclothed Sherlock with his gaze. He watched him very intently. He could read everything John had in mind on his face, and the erection he had was becoming more painful by the minute. John's eyes locked on Sherlock's. Very slowly, his hand started to move down to his fly. He undid it and started stroking himself, right on Sherlock's face. Why would Sherlock flinch in watching his partner please himself in that way? If anything, Sherlock was becoming more and more aroused.

John came closer to his face, dick in hand and still stroking. "I want to do an experiment", he said in a low voice. "I want you to make me come, still handcuffed like that. Obviously you cannot use your hands. Shouldn't be too much of a problem for a genius like you, should it?" he added in a growl, stroking Sherlock's cheek with his dick.

"Well...?" he added impatiently. Sherlock looked at him, confused. "Your Captain gave you an order." "Yes, Sir. It won't be a problem. Sir." Sherlock answered.

John brought his cock to Sherlock's mouth. He intended to fuck his face, but first he played a bit, caressing his cheeks and lips with it. Sherlock's lips kept parting, and his tongue flicked out of his mouth more than once, to try and get John in. The sight of Sherlock handcuffed in that way was glorious, never before had he seen him like that, silently begging for John to fuck his face, and it was a  massive turn on. After a few minutes of such a treatment, Sherlock had become a pleading mess. "It is a good change as I'm usually the pleading one" John thought. He took pity, and gave Sherlock what he wanted. He put his cock in Sherlock's mouth and came back and forth for several minutes, while Sherlock was using his tongue to please him. "Oh yes, Sherlock. That's good. Keep doing that" John said, trying to sound nonplussed. But Sherlock was not fooled by this act, as he perceived the fluctuations in John's voice. His praise was a good incentive to continue though. Sherlock stroke John's dick with his tongue, sucking all the while. He heard John gasp as he did that, which made him harden even more. "Stop. Sherlock, stop. Now" John said, catching his breath and pulling out of his mouth. "Oh you are good..." he said, halting his coming orgasm placing a hand at the base of his prick. With the other, he tenderly caressed Sherlock's cheeks, and he saw how much the man was in awe of him. But he would be damned if Sherlock could make him lose all his anger with his puppy eyes. He grabbed Sherlock's hair, entangled his fingers in his dark curls and shoved his cock in Sherlock's mouth, thrusting deep and hard until he chocked around it. Not wanting to hurt him though, John pulled out and gently caressed Sherlock's lips with the tip of his dick.

"Using you like that is heaven. And you're obedient enough to make me enjoy all of this." Sherlock's eyes were downcast. John cupped Sherlock's chin in his palm, making eye contact with him. "I want more of this. Be a good lad and make me come."

Once again, John shove his cock into Sherlock's mouth, thrusting even faster and deeper as his climax built up.

John's cheeks were red from lust and physical effort. He groaned, as Sherlock tried his best to breathe through this. There was no point in using his tongue now, John was just using his mouth, and as deft as Sherlock was with his tongue, he couldn't use it when John was fucking his mouth so thoroughly. Then  John came all over his lips, tie and shirt.

Sherlock was dishevelled, hair in disarray, red from lust and physical exhaustion, and his lips shining with come. This was an extraordinary lustful sight that was offered to John and, had he not just come he would make Sherlock bend over and take him right there and then. He admired his work for a time, Sherlock still silent from surprised of having been used in that way. And yet happy.

Sherlock being silent gave John all latitude to examine him, and marvel at the sight.

"Th-..." Sherlock tried to speak, locking eyes with John. But he stopped in his track when he saw the look he had on his face. Even more lustful than before. That suited him so much...

"Turn around. Now."

"Bu-..."

"Now."

Unaccustomed to being ordered around, Sherlock complied. He was indeed curious as to how John would proceed in getting aroused once again just minutes after having discharged his semen in and around Sherlock's mouth.

He felt John's hand unzip his trousers and take them off, along with his pants. "There" he said. "Bend over, now." And Sherlock did.

John's hand flew across his lower back, and came right onto his hard prick. He smirked. "Oh so you enjoyed my using you too, didn't you?" John whispered in Sherlock's ear. "Naughty" he added, smacking loudly his cheeks with a flat hand. He rubbed his already half-hard cock against Sherlock's arse.

"How...?" Sherlock asked, surprised.

"You have no idea how exciting a sight you offer, do you?" John said, still rubbing himself against Sherlock.

He bent behind Sherlock, and parted his cheeks, inhaling his enticing smell. He then proceeded licking and sucking on the flesh of his arse hole, resulting in Sherlock moaning, louder and louder as John sucked harder. After a minute or two, John pushed his tongue inside Sherlock. He was prepared enough, his arse ready to be fucked and John hard as a rock.

"I'm going to  fuck your arse now. Don't squirm" he said, placing a hand on Sherlock's lower back and positioning himself with the other. He didn't enter too smoothly, Sherlock usually was the one topping.

"God, you're tight...! Feels so good and warm..." John complimented him. And he began moving slowly, feeling the muscles relaxing and contracting with each move. John had a good view, Sherlock moaning on his knees, sweat dripping down his spine...John relished the physical pleasure he was experiencing as well as his dominant trait that was showing in this moment. His thrusts became faster, as he felt Sherlock's arse widen and get slicker with it.

"Sir. Don't stop, Sir." Sherlock panted.

John gladly continued.

"Oooh, faster, Sir! Please! Fuck me hard! Sir!" Sherlock shouted.

John complied, and increased his rhythm, motivated by Sherlock's encouragement.

"That's so good,  **sir** ...! fuck me harder, faster... _ please _ , Sir...!" Sherlock was begging now. John's thrusts became more and more erratic upon hearing how much Sherlock was enjoying what he did. "God, I... _ love _ this...Sir...being at...your mercy...I... _ love _ ...feeling...feeling you...inside...me..." Sherlock's breathing was really ragged now, and John's was no better. But  _ God _ how it felt good...

John increased his pace even more, pounding harder and harder inside Sherlock, hitting his prostate so much and so hard he was sure Sherlock's arse would be hurting like hell the day after...

In a loud groan, John came, his semen flowing into Sherlock's arse in a strong gush. Sherlock came at the same time, John hadn't even needed to stroke him to bring him to release.

Both men were panting from such intense sex. "Congratulations, soldier. You were so good you made me come twice. I think a reward is in order" John said, getting up to his feet and fetching the key to the handcuffs he had kept in his drawer for memento of their "daring escape" a few years ago. "Anyway", John asked whilst unlocking the handcuffs, "how did you come to handcuff yourself in such a way?"

Sherlock remained silent for a few seconds before answering "It was an experiment". John scoffed. "An experiment gone wrong then, otherwise you wouldn't have looked so despe...oh you PRICK" John said, half laughing, half shouting. "You knew I was going to take advantage of your predicament after our little row this morning...You knew...!" "Of course I knew, John. I knew you wanted to stop being always the submitted one, and our fight provided me with the perfect opportunity" he said smugly. "You would not have were you not angry with me, nor would you have "taken advantage of my predicament" as you said it...all you needed was a little push forward...And as from now, I wonder whether I should start on getting the milk and things of the same order...if it ends up like that every time, I see no reason why I _should_..." he added in a teasing tone.

"Shut up and kiss me, you stupid git." John said, cupping Sherlock's chin and putting his lips to his, eyelids closed and fingers tenderly caressing his cheeks while his tongue explored the well-known mouth of his partner, tasting himself.

Despite what he had said, Sherlock did get the milk. From time to time. He also tried to open up whenever he felt John was getting upset with his behaviour. He knew this was somehow important to John. And he did not want to displease him. Not too much, anyway. And sometimes he would upset John on purpose, but was careful enough to make it clear to him that was not to  _ really _ anger him, but to relive the experience of Captain Watson asserting his dominance over him.


End file.
